Stolen Light
by FallingWithGrace
Summary: WARNING: RAPE SLASH TROYRYAN What happens if nobody believes you except for the one person who shouldn't?
1. One

**1**

**Author's Note**: So I posted this but I decided to make it longer. Review it again. I'll be updating this; I'm actually really stoked for ths story. Ryan and Sharpay are a bit OOC in this chapter, I'm just telling you ahead of time. It's still good though, so read it.

**Summary**: What happens if nobody believes you except for the one person who shouldn't? TROYRYAN SLASH

**Warning**: Rape, abuse, self-abuse, domestic abuse, violence, homosexual relationships, etc.

* * *

"Close your eyes and pretend it's a bad dream.

That's how I get by,"

_- Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End_

**ooo**

The moment Sharpay looks at Ryan as he enters her room, she knows something's wrong. She drops her bottle of nail polish, failing to acknowledge the stain it makes on the carpet as it hits the floor, not caring that her father will most likely yell at her later. _There' s something wrong. _It's the way Ryan's body is propped against the doorway, his hands grasping so tightly to the wooden doorknob, his knuckles white. The way his lips are pressed tightly together in a firm, thin line. The way his golden hair is matted, the small cuts on his face. The way he walks, with a visible limp. The way he whimpers softly.

But mostly, it's the eyes. The last time Sharpay saw Ryan, his eyes were bright, alive. Now, staring at his younger twin brother's eyes, she knows something has happened. The way his eyes are dark, hollow caves. Erased of life. She feels like she's looking into the eyes of an old man, not a sixteen-year-old boy.

"Ryan," she manages to whisper, standing up carefully from her chair at her desk. "What's wrong?"

Ryan looks silently at her, his body trembling, the only noise coming from the consistent whimpers in his throat. And all of the sudden he falls, crumples weakly to the ground.

Sharpay catches him just before he hits the floor, cussing under her breath.

"Ryan, Ryan," she whispers frantically, slapping at her brother's face. "Ryan, wake up!"

Ryan lays silently, not moving, his breathing irregular and his eyes closed. He lets out a pained whimper as Sharpay shifts her body.

"RYAN!" yelps Sharpay, and Ryan opens his eyes slightly. As his mind registers his sister, he moans in agony as he jerks away from Sharpay.

"Ryan, what's wrong?" Sharpay begs him for an answer, searching desperately in Ryan's eyes. "What's wrong, tell me, Ryan, tell me. What happened? Are you ok?" She doesn't care that her nails are completely ruined; she doesn't care that her hair is falling apart for once in her life. She just sits there, her legs pressed against the floor begging Ryan to talk to her, ignoring the weight that he puts on her thighs.

She reaches forward to touch her brother's shoulder and is horrified when Ryan pulls away, wrapping his arms around his torso in a protective shield. Protecting himself from Sharpay, protecting himself from life, protecting himself from whatever happened.

Sharpay cusses out loud and watches Ryan's eyes fill with hurt. "Tell me what's wrong, Ryan, I can't help you." She tries again to touch her brother's shoulder, but Ryan just pulls away with a slight scream.

"DON'T TOUCH ME SHARPAY!" Ryan's voice is strained. He pulls himself into a small corner of Sharpay's pink-walled room.

"Ryan, what the fuck wrong with you?" Sharpay's voice is full of panic now; she doesn't know what to do, she doesn't know why her brother's hurting even though the uncontrollable racing of her heart fills her body with dread.

"I can't tell you," Ryan says in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Why not?" Sharpay demands. Ryan's her brother; Ryan's her twin--they tell each other everything.

"Because then you'd hate me," he says almost inaudibly. Sharpay has to lean close to him to hear.

Sharpay's voice is hushed. "_What_?" She blinks several times, stunned.

Ryan's voice is racked with pain. "I can't tell you--you'll _hate_ me, you'll _hate_ me," he whispers, bringing his knees close to his chest. "I can't."

"Ryan, why can't you tell me," Sharpay resorts to cursing, trying to hide her frustration, wishing there was a way she could calm her brother down. She's never seen him so upset; usually _she's_ the irrational one; usually he's the steady calm one and the sudden switch of their roles frustrates her. "I'm your sister." She strokes his face; Ryan shudders but doesn't pull away this time. "I'm Sharpay; it's me, _Sharpay. _Come on Ry, I love you; come on you can tell me anything."

"You'll hate me," Ryan says again.

"I won't hate you," Sharpay consoles him, beginning to become impatient. "How can I hate you? You're my _brother_! You're my twin!"

"I..." Ryan stops.

"What is it?" Sharpay demands.

Ryan whimpers. "I..." _was raped..._

"SPIT IT OUT!" Sharpay screams at him, wishing for once that she had the capacity to stay calm like Ryan usually does.

Ryan flinches and jerks away. "LEAVE ME ALONE! DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"I'm not..." Sharpay tries to control her ragged breathing. She suddenly feels like a man. "I'm not touching you, Ryan."

"Don't yell," gasps Ryan, his eyes frightened.

"I'm sorry," Sharpay apologizes. "I'm sorry, I'm just so frustrated... tell me, what happened, please Ryan."

"I... it hurt..." _I was raped, Shar._

"What hurt?" Sharpay grabs his shoulders and shakes him.

Ryan yelps and Sharpay lets go, horrified. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she mutters frantically. "I didn't mean to hurt you Ryan, I didn't..."

"It was after school and he was just _there_," Ryan whimpers, after he's shaken off the pain. He feels so vulnerable; he hates it. _I couldn't stop them Sharpay. He just came._

"What did he _do_ to you?" Sharpay says anxiously. Her heart is pounding in her chest and she feels like destroying everything. Killing everything that's hurting her brother.

_He raped me. I'm not a virgin anymore. I'm so dirty._

"What did he _do_?" Sharpay brings her voice to such a low tone that it frightens Ryan even more than when she was screaming. "What did he do to you Ryan?"

_He raped me._

But Ryan can't bring himself to say it out loud.

That would be admitting it happened.

**ooo**

Sharpay throws her hands up in defeat. "I'm calling Mom and Dad."

"_No_!" Ryan's protest comes out as a scream. Sharpay looks at him, shocked.

"What's wrong, Ryan? You won't tell me, I can't deal with this. I'm going to go get Dad; you might talk to him."

"_Please_," Ryan's face is pleading her, begging him, _asking_ her.

"Ryan, there's something wrong with you right now and you won't tell me. I _need_ to know," Sharpay says in a dangerous voice. She doesn't look her brother in the eyes. She might break.

"You'll all hate me," comes a small whisper.

"Why would I hate you?" Sharpay bends down to her brother's level and grips him by the shoulders. "Why would I hate you?"

"I can't tell you," comes the quiet reply.

Sharpay pulls out her cellphone and frantically dials in her mom's number. She dials it wrong and shouts in frustration, only to see her brother cringe. Trying to comfort Nick, she calls again to get her mom's angry voice.

"_What_?" comes Lynnette's tone of annoyance.

Sharpay flinches at the volume of her mom, but reminds herself the pain that she is going through is nothing compared to what is happening to Ryan.

"Mom, you need to get back here now," she says, trying to show the urgency in her voice. "I know you're at a party but we need you _now._"

"What happened?" comes Lynette's alarmed reply.

"Ryan's hurt," Sharpay answers, and leaves it at that. She hangs up.

Ryan stares at Sharpay, his eyes dead. "I'm..." _so dirty, Sharpay_.

"You're _what?_" Sharpay asks him. She needs the answer, she needs to kill whoever has done this to her brother.

"I'm so..."

"What?" Sharpay's voice is cracking with pain and she feels tears come to her eyes. Bracing herself, she wipes them off with the back of her hand. She needs to be strong for Ryan.

Ryan's voice is a hollow tone and he manages to say it. "He raped me, Sharpay."

"What?" Sharpay heard her brother's answer, but she has to confirm it, confirm what has happened, confirm that Ryan will never be the same again.

"He raped me."

* * *

**review.**

Preview for the next chapter:

_"Ryan, who did this to you?" Sharpay hisses, her eyes furious. She's tired of her brother playing games; she's tired of him trying to hide his secrets. She needs to know now._

_"It was..."_


	2. Two

**2 **

**Author's Note**: My God, 57 reviews. Yes, I had to update. I hope you like this chapter. I do.

**Summary**: What happens if nobody believes you except for the one person who shouldn't? TROYRYAN SLASH

**Warning**: Rape, abuse, self-abuse, domestic abuse, violence, homosexual relationships, etc.

* * *

"I think that God in creating Man somewhat overestimated his ability,"

- Oscar Wilde

**ooo **

"Goddam," she says, feeling the blood drain from her face. "Oh my God, Ryan."

"I knew you'd hate me," he answers her in a voice barely above a whisper. "I told you you'd hate me."

"God Ryan, I don't hate you," she says, trying to bring him close to her and hold him tight. She wants nothing more than to rock him back and forth and tell him that it's okay while both of them know it will never be okay again.

"Who did it?" she asks him, her voice quivering.

"I…I need to take a shower," he breaks off and refuses to answer her. He stands up stiffly and she notices a stain on the back of his faded jeans.

A red stain.

**ooo**

Ryan has never scrubbed himself so incredibly hard in his life. Not even the time when he fell into the pit of oil Sharpay set up as a trap or when he played in mud when he was little. He turns on the water to its hottest temperature and strips, convincing himself not to look at his boxers as they fall to the floor. He doesn't want to look at himself in the mirror but he does and feels a lump in his throat as he sees the dark handprints on the underside of his thighs and the dried blood that cakes his groin.

He steps into the shower and scrubs. He scrubs so hard he can feel himself scratching skin off but he doesn't care because he wants to get the feeling of _him_ out of his body. He wants to get _it_ away from him and pretend that _it_ never happened and that _he_ was never inside of him. He rinses his face over and over again, crying when the soap gets into his eyes and almost glad for it. He likes having an excuse to sob.

God he likes the feeling of the water scalding his back; he likes the feeling that he's being rubbed raw. He closes his eyes and tries not to remember but it's a bad nightmare lurking in the back of his mind and he can't make it stop. He feels like he's on a roller coaster and he wants it to stop because the exhilaration is making his head pound but no matter how much he wants to he can't get off this ride.

It's a ride that will last forever.

And he's on it by himself.

**ooo**

Sharpay calls her mom. "Mom, I'm taking Ryan to the hospital; we'll meet you there."

Her mom asks her what has happened to Ryan.

Sharpay doesn't answer. She knows that Ryan will want to explain for himself.

**Ooo**

She stares at Ryan as he steps out of the bathroom in a new outfit of clothing. He looks the same as any other day, just weaker and tired, but she knows that the boy who is standing here now is not the same boy anymore. He's someone different.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," she says.

He nods. Gets a jacket from the chair and puts it on. It's cold.

This suddenly feels so irrational and she wants to cry. She expects Ryan to cry, to scream hysterically, to cause some sort of drama, but he's so calm that it scares her. He stands there looking at her blankly with his blue eyes and she wants to scream and throw a fit; she wants to throw the expensive vase on the table at the wall. She wants to be irrational for Ryan but she can't.

She just gets her keys and opens the garage. Steps in and opens her car door.

Ryan gets in stiffly.

He's not the same anymore.

**ooo**

It's absolutely silent in the car. She grips the wheel so tightly that her knuckles are white and she turns to look at Ryan so often that she almost gets into a few accidents. "Are you okay?" she asks suddenly and mentally kicks herself for being so stupid. Of course he's not okay.

He looks at her and doesn't answer.

"Ryan, who did this to you?"

There's absolutely no answer; Ryan has stopped to look down at his hands which are folded neatly in his lap. He's shivering even though the heat is on; water drips from his hair still from the shower.

"Ryan who did it? I swear I will kill that son-of-a-bitch."

Ryan doesn't answer her. He just continues to look at his hands.

"Ryan, just tell me who." Her voice is trembling now; she's about to lose it but he still remains silent.

Sharpay slams the brakes of her car to a screeching halt and swerves wildly to the side of the road. Ryan jerks forward in his seat; the seatbelt hits his chest hard and he can't help but let out a groan.

Sharpay is honestly too enraged to care.

"Ryan, who did this to you," Sharpay hisses, her eyes furious. She's tired of her brother playing games; she's tired of him trying to hide his secrets. She needs to know now.

Ryan looks at her emptily. Sharpay feels her eyes watering.

"God Ryan, please, I just want to know; I need to know who would do something like this to _you._"

Ryan answers her so quietly she has to strain her ears to listen. He mumbles something indistinct but she can't hear him.

"What?"

"You want to know who it was?" he nearly screams all of the sudden. "You want to know who fucked my brains out and who shoved his dick in my mouth? You want to know who forced me to kneel on the floor on the boy's locker room and shoved his fat cock up my ass? You want to know who made me cry and hit me across the face and told me to stop being a pussy and that I was a fucking faggot and a fucking slut and a fucking whore who deserved it?"

He doesn't seem to know he's crying but the tears are running furiously down his face and he buries his face in his hands.

Sharpay is shocked. Ryan's never crude and obscene; it's typically her. She sits and feels her heart race. It seems like an hour.

Finally, almost fearfully she says yes.

Ryan looks at her, raising his face out of his hands, his eyes wet and his mouth twisted in almost a sarcastic smile.

"It was," he says, his voice lowered in a dangerous tone again. He chuckles almost maniacally and then finally answers. "It was Coach Bolton."

* * *

**review.**

Preview for the next chapter:

_Dr. Warren kneels down and pushes Ryan's legs apart. Ryan gasps and squeezes his eyes shut furiously, his mouth in a painful gesture and with a pang, Sharpay sees him mouth, "No more." He tries to jerk away and Sharpay feels the tears coming as she squeezes onto his hand. _

_"Are you going to press charges?" Dr. Warren looks at her oddly. _

_Her eyes narrow in ferocity. "Definitely." _


	3. Three

**3**

**Author's Note**: Ok, first off thank you for all of the reviews. They're absolutely fantastic. I hope you like this chapter; I worked hard on it. I haven't been updating so often because I'm swamped with schoolwork.

**Summary**: What happens if nobody believes you except for the one person who shouldn't? TROYRYAN SLASH

**Warning**: Rape, abuse, self-abuse, domestic abuse, violence, homosexual relationships, etc.

* * *

"Life is a horrible thing to sleep through,"

- _What's Eating Gilbert Grape_ headline

**ooo**

It's absolutely silent. Sharpay can hear the water dripping down Ryan's face; he's turned away from her now, his shoulders shaking softly. The only thing that comes to her mind is _what the fuck?_ She wants desperately to ask Ryan what happened--how Coach Bolton approached him; she wants to know every detail so she can put that man through hell and then she's brought back to harsh reality: she realizes how impossible it is.

In the end she just drives. She twists her keys and moves back into the street and continues the drive to the hospital, Ryan curled up in the seat next to her, silent once again.

**ooo **

The wait is purely agonizing. Sharpay and Ryan have been sitting in the waiting room for about eight minutes now and it feels like it has been at least an hour. Mrs. Evans, true to Sharpay's fears, is making Ryan even more uncomfortable than he already was; she keeps looking over at Ryan and shaking her head, making Ryan tremble. Mr. Evans is punching his fist into his hand repetitively and Sharpay sympathizes with her father; she wants to do the same thing.

_Kill Coach Bolton._

Ryan hasn't told his parents who raped him; he hasn't said anything to his parents actually since Sharpay told them what happened to him. He sat numbly when his mother pestered him with her questions of "Are you okay?", "Oh my God Ryan, why didn't you say anything?" and "You know this isn't your fault, right?" He jerked himself away eventually and moved closer to Sharpay. She squeezes his hand now and he bites his lip.

A nurse walks in now and tells them it will be a few more minutes and Sharpay feels her anger build.

"What the FUCK do you mean 'a few minutes?' This is an emergency; can't you do something now?" she yelps angrily, not noticing that she's crying in frustration.

The nurse is oddly unfazed. "I'm sorry for the inconveniences, ma'am but there _are _other people who are suffering through the same scenario as your brother and there are people in more dire need of help." She turns and walks away.

Sharpay feels the angry expression on her face fade and she looks at Ryan.

That's when she realizes the nurse is wrong. Ryan is the one who needs help most at this minute and the reason why she's so angry is because she doesn't know how to give it to him.

**ooo**

Finally a different nurse comes in and looks directly at Ryan. Sharpay wonders if it's that obvious that Ryan is the rape victim, but looking at her brother enveloped in Mr. Evan's jacket, she realizes it really is.

"Dr. Warren can see you now," the nurse says, giving Ryan a kind look.

Ryan unfolds himself like a piece of flimsy origami. For the first time since he's gotten out of the car he speaks. "Do I have to go alone?"

His voice is unstable and watery and it's all Sharpay can do from bursting into tears right there.

"You can take one person with you," the nurse says trying to look anywhere but Ryan's eyes.

Sharpay knows why. He doesn't look alive anymore.

Ryan numbly points at Sharpay and she understands. Though there's an audible gasp from her mother and a dissatisfied grunt from her father, Sharpay knows that Ryan trusts her the most. The nurse asks Sharpay if she knows that this will involve seeing her brother exposed and Sharpay nods. Ryan needs her.

She stands up and follows Ryan into a small examination room, her heart beating heavy and fast in her chest.

**ooo**

There's a spiel of questions which Ryan answers softly in short sentences. _When did this happen? Do you know who this was done by? Has the rapist in any way contacted you? Have you in any way douched or cleaned yourself out in the time being?_

Sharpay feels a sink in her heart at the last one; she shouldn't have let Ryan showered. A loss of evidence.

After the questioning, Dr. Warren—who turns out to be a kind, though rather grim looking woman—looks steadily at Ryan. "Now Ryan," she says, "this next part may be a little difficult but I'm going to have to put you through a small test, okay? We have to see if there's any evidence or possible infections on your body. This may be uncomfortable so please just let me know if you have any problems, okay?"

Ryan nods simply and Sharpay thinks that he already has problems. She watches as Dr. Warren asks Ryan to take off his pants and a panicked look spreads across his face. Sharpay squeezes his hand again, a squeeze that ensures _nobody's going to hurt you while I'm here._

Ryan looks gratefully at her and in an almost graceful gesture, he pulls off his pants and stands there awkwardly in his boxers. His shirt and boxers come off next, respectively and he's standing there naked, shivering as he sits down on the metal table. Sharpay looks anywhere but at his body, knowing how embarrassed he is.

Dr. Warren pulls up a stirrup-like object and looks almost apologetically at Ryan. "I'm sorry but we usually have girl-rape occurrences; male-rapes are very common—this may be a bit more uncomfortable for you than for some of the girls."

Ryan grasps his hands together and doesn't say anything, his hollow eyes looking wearily at Dr. Warren. Sharpay rubs her hands soothingly over his neck, whispering comforting things into his ears—about times when things were better. She recovers visits to the beaches, walks to the park, their first parties—and realizes that she's already started grouping events into _before _and _after. Before_ Ryan was a happy teen who loved drama and had a flair for writing. _After_ the incident, Ryan's a scared, quaking individual, on the verge of breaking before her.

Dr. Warren kneels down and pushes Ryan's legs apart. Ryan gasps and squeezes his eyes shut furiously, his mouth in a painful gesture and with a pang, Sharpay sees him mouth, "No more." He tries to jerk away and Sharpay feels the tears coming as she squeezes onto his hand. Sharpay tries to ignore the red imprints between his thighs and the remains of the caked blood that Ryan wasn't able to rub off as he showered furiously. Tears spill over Ryan's eyes and it's all Sharpay can do from asking Dr. Warren to stop and leave her brother alone: to take her brother home and pretend all of this never happened.

A statement from Dr. Warren jolts her back into reality. "Are you going to press charges?" Dr. Warren looks at her oddly. Sharpay hears the question reverberate over her; of course she's going to screw Jack Bolton over; nobody gets away with hurting her brother.

Her eyes narrow in ferocity. "Definitely."

* * *

**review.**

Preview for the next chapter:

_Sharpay wakes with a start and sees Ryan sitting awake on her bed. She doesn't remember when Ryan hasn't fallen asleep before her and it shocks her to see that he's still staring blankly ahead of him._

_She moves the blankets and crawls towards him. "What's wrong, Ryan?"_

_He looks at her, and glances down, the light from her open window making a delicate shadow on the underside of his neck. "Sharpay, I can feel him inside of me."_


	4. Four

**

* * *

**

Author's Note

: I'm back. Thank you for all the feedback!

**Summary**: What happens if nobody believes you except for the one person who shouldn't? TROYRYAN SLASH

**Warning**: Rape, abuse, self-abuse, domestic abuse, violence, homosexual relationships, etc.

* * *

"Sometimes I'm afraid of what you might tell me. I can only hope that the answers will come to me in my sleep.

I hope that when the world comes to an end, I can breathe a sigh of relief, because there will be so much to look forward to,"

-Donnie, _Donnie Darko_

**ooo**

If Sharpay could do one thing, it would be to forget. There is nothing more she wants than to forget. She wants to close her eyes and pretend that Ryan didn't confess to being a virgin; she wants to go back in time and make sure Ryan comes home with her from school. She wants to be doing her nails, she wants to be watching TV with Ryan, she wants to stop thinking about the blood-stained jeans that are hiding in the laundry basket.

She wonders about burning the jeans. She wonders if that will make her feel better.

But she knows that getting rid of the jeans isn't going to help.

The only way she can forget is to get rid of Ryan.

And she couldn't do that, even if she had to do it to save the world.

**ooo**

If Sharpay has ever been angry at her parents, it would be now. Lynette tiptoes around Ryan as if frightened he might shatter any second. Vance confronts Ryan and tells him he needs to report who the rapist is "so we can take care of this, son." Lynette runs purely on her fears, Vance runs purely on practicality.

Only Sharpay runs on her instincts and her wits.

She wonders how on earth she was born into this family.

She glances at Ryan, whose bottom lip is shuddering and realizes that Lynette runs on fears, Vance runs on practicality, she runs on instincts, but Ryan?

Ryan runs on emotions.

**ooo**

Ryan is too... rational for Sharpay. As bad as it sounds, she wants him to cry, wants him to go and try to kill himself. Do something predictable. She's read many books and normal rape victim behavior is to slash wrists, act defiant or curl up into fetal position, cry, cut hair. Rape reaction is fight or flight.

Ryan's reaction is _indifferent._ Ryan's reaction is forgetting.

They can't forget this.

Instead of fighting or fleeing, Ryan brushes his teeth and climbs into his bed without a sound, shutting his door behind him. He walks with an obvious limp and Sharpay is afraid that if she has to see her brother in any more pain, she is going to shatter into a million pieces.

Sharpay doesn't know what to do.

And it's killing her.

**ooo****  
**

"Sharpay, who did this to him?" Lynette balls up her hands, her red nails sticking up prominently. She bites her lower lip between her teeth, as if afraid for the answer. She sits, glaring at her daughter from across the table.

"Mom, I can't tell you that," Sharpay answers, icily. This is what she's known for. She's cool, collected, bitchy even.

"Sharpay-" Sharpay doesn't let Lynette finish.

"It's his choice to tell you. I can't _tell_ you because he asked me not to. It's not my story to tell," Sharpay says simply, pulling a cup of steaming coffee towards her. "It's his."

She takes a sip of the coffee, expecting it to scald her tongue--to throw some pain and emotion back into her. She can't taste anything.

She can't feel anything. She can't feel it even though hot air is visible, spilling out of her mug.

She wants to take some of Ryan's pain away from him because he is hurting too damn much, but she can't.

She takes another sip of her coffee, wondering if it will always taste this cold.

**ooo**

Usually Ryan falls into bed and passes out, dead to the world. He is the soundest sleeper in the Evans' household. Vance and Lynette are constantly paranoid that someone will break into the Evans' mansion and rob them, and Sharpay stirs at the slightest noise.

Tonight, while the rest of the house sleeps, Ryan is awake.

His pillow is wet against his face and he remembers his mom, standing hesitantly and nervously at his door, contemplating whether or not she should come in and say good night to her son. Because whether she wants it to be or not, it is not going to be a good night for him. It _can't_ be.

He remembers how his mom sighed sadly and closed the door, leaving him alone.

Maybe he's too dirty for her to face.

He shudders now, cold under his blankets. He's burrowed himself under, wrapping himself inside a cocoon, and his chest tightens as he lets out a quiet sob. Tears streak down his face in steady rivers, dampening his pillow.

He wonders if that will be his talent now.

Crying.

**ooo**

Sharpay has always been a light sleeper and that's why her eyes instantly flash open when she feels the springs of her bed shift downwards.

She wakes with a start and sees Ryan sitting awake on her bed. She doesn't remember when Ryan hasn't fallen asleep before her and it shocks her to see that he's still staring blankly ahead of him.

She moves her blankets and crawls towards him. "What's wrong, Ryan?"

This is so unlike her brother, so unlike the Ryan she knows and loves. Ryan's shoulders shake as he shivers, even though it is far from cold in the house. Sharpay's eyes adjust to the night and she takes in his disheveled hair and wet shirt.

"Oh Ryan," Sharpay whispers, pulling her brother towards her.

Ryan grew taller than Sharpay a long time ago. He has always been taller, but now in her arms, he is vulnerable and childlike and small. She shifts her arms so she can hold all of him, and her heart breaks again that night as he shudders in her hold.

"Ryan, what happened?" Sharpay asks.

He looks at her, and glances down, the light from her open window making a delicate shadow on the underside of his neck. "Sharpay, I can feel him inside of me."

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review :)


	5. Five

**Author's Note**: This story needed a revival. Yes?

**Summary**: What happens if nobody believes you except for the one person who shouldn't? TROYRYAN SLASH

**Warning**: Rape, abuse, self-abuse, domestic abuse, violence, homosexual relationships, etc.

**5**

"Rape: **noun**

any act of sexual intercourse that is forced upon a person

to screw someone or something, violently,"

-

* * *

**ooo**

The next morning, Sharpay wakes up and smells pancakes. The smell wafts up from the kitchen, tickling her nose—the sticky, sweet smell of syrup prominent. And she sits up in bed, looking forward to breakfast, when a rock falls into the pit of her stomach. She remembers.

Ryan is lying on her bed, his body curled in an awkward position amidst her fluffy pink pillows. One arm is pulled over her comforter, and the other is wrapped around a pillow, grasping it close to his body. Sharpay notices dark red circles around her brother's wrists and instantly feels sick.

Ryan breathes shallowly, dark circles surrounding his eyes, and even in the dim light from her window slats, Sharpay can see the bruises that circle his face. Bruises in the shape of fingerprints.

She almost throws up right then and there, but looks up at her ceiling, sighing heavily and willing herself not to cry. She _needs_ to be strong.

When she was six years old, she asked her parents to put glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. Instead, her parents had decided to have a professional decorator paint the ceiling a dark, midnight blue pattern, so she'd have visible stars during the day as well as night. Ryan had always loved the stars—he said they made him feel like he was in space, going on an adventure.

And now, looking at Ryan sleeping quietly in her bed, Sharpay can't help but think the adventure's been finished and her battered brother is the sad result. And he's lost. On her bed, Ryan looks small and vulnerable and she can't believe that that _bastard _Jack Bolton took advantage of her twin.

A small noise of discomfort from Ryan draws Sharpay back to reality.

Ryan's forehead is furrowed in distress; his lip twitches in his sleep; his fingers clench uselessly and weakly around the pillow. He whimpers softly, but the noises escalate, growing louder and more distressed. And before she can do anything, Ryan is screaming, screaming, and Sharpay reaches over and slaps her brother out of his sleep and pulls him close, telling him everything will be okay.

But the truth is, she realizes, as Ryan shudders against her chest, nothing is going to be okay. Her twin is reaching out to her like Sharpay's his mother, while Lynette is downstairs trying to fix everything with pancakes, and Vance is nowhere to be seen.

Sharpay always thought her family was slightly disjointed, but now she realized that it is flat-out dysfunctional. Ryan has been raped and instead of confronting and challenging the son-of-a-bitch who has hurt their child, her parents are skirting around the issue.

But the more she thinks about it, the anger slowly fades. Her parents could not see this coming. She couldn't see this coming. The one person who deserves all her anger and fury is Coach Bolton, and she is going to make sure that he rots in hell if it's the last thing she does.

"It's okay," she whispers again, hating herself for lying to her brother. Her heart breaks as he shudders against her touch. "Come on, Ry, let's go get some food."

"I'm not hungry," Ryan murmurs from where his hand is clenched in Sharpay's shirt. "Go eat."

His voice is weak and weary, and Sharpay studies his face in concern.

"Ryan, you have to keep your strength up," Sharpay says softly. "You can't let him win."

"'M _not_," Ryan says bitterly, "I just don't want to eat."

Sharpay sighs and withdraws her hand from Ryan's shoulder. "Come on."

Ryan unfolds his body, and clambers off of her bed, heading down to the kitchen in silence.

Sharpay can't believe he's given up that easily.

She can't tell if she's happy he's submitted to her, or if by forcing him, she's lost him.

**ooo**

Lynette Evans has only made her special raspberry-strawberry pancakes for her children several times in her life. The first time she made them was when the family dog, Kipling, was hit by a car. The second time was when Vance's father died. The third time was when the Evans family was moving from California to New Mexico, and she didn't know how to break the news that they were leaving their three story mansion.

This is the fourth time, and as much as Ryan loves the pancakes, he can't eat.

He stares at the cakes floating in syrup, staring blankly at his fork grasped tightly in his hand. He wills himself to cut a piece, but watches it dangle on the utensil and drops it weakly with a sigh.

He glances over at Sharpay, who looks worriedly at him. Her plate remains untouched as well.

Lynette Evans skirts around the table, her lips pursed in a grim line. He catches her eyes, and she tries hard to smile, but it is a half-hearted effort and she quickly looks away.

Maybe he's too dirty to be her son anymore.

"Ryan, please eat," Sharpay says, gesturing to his food.

Ryan does as she asks, because she's done everything for him in the last day. He eats the mushy piece of pancake dangling off his fork, and winces in discomfort as the sticky, sweet cake pushes its way down his throat. His mouth and throat are still sore from the abuse they suffered the past day, and he can't help but whimper slightly in pain.

Immediately, Sharpay is at his side, running her hands over his shoulders and soothing him.

"Do you want something else?" she asks quietly, "Mom, do you think you could make him some tea?"

Tears of humiliation spring to his eyes. He's like a fucking cripple now—he doesn't know what's wrong with him, and everything just hurts. He closes his eyes, the tears coming in torrents now, trying desperately to forget.

But his mind chooses not to listen to him.

_Ryan, what are you still doing here? School was over a long time ago._

That voice, so slightly curious and almost concerned. Ryan hadn't recognized the deceit, but he did now.

He'd explained that he was running—practicing for the upcoming soccer game.

But _he_ didn't want to listen. He'd asked Ryan to come and help him pack up jerseys in the boys' locker room, and the next thing Ryan knew, he was against the linoleum, pushing _him _away as _he _shoved his tongue in Ryan's mouth and bit his lips until they bled.

_You like this, don't you boy? How would you feel about my cock shoved up your tight ass? Bet you'd love that, wouldn't you, you little whore?_

His fingers circled around Ryan's crotch. Ripping with a ferocity, jerking down Ryan's running shorts and pulling off his boxers.

_I hear you're a queer. A little fag, isn't that right?_

Ryan can't breathe—the memory of last night and _him_ are taking over. He chokes and cries in desperate, mewling efforts, and Sharpay is frantic. His dad, who has just come down from upstairs, is alarmed and panicked, and Ryan senses his mom somewhere behind Sharpay.

_I've seen you look at me. Don't lie, you _want _this, you little faggot. I know you do._

How could he have let this happen? What the _fuck_ was wrong with him? How could he be so weak and let this man destroy his life?

_So innocent and beautiful. Ryan, your skin is so perfect. Oh fuck, you're so tight._

A hand trailing down to his crotch, squeezing around his penis.

_Oh, what's this? You fucking little slut, you _want _this._

He'd said no. Ryan had said no until his voice hurt from yelling; he'd kicked and fought, but Jack Bolton had punched him repeatedly, kicking his stomach. And pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket.

_Hoped I wouldn't have to use this, but I guess I'll have to. Why aren't you a little kink?_

Ryan had struggled, screamed against the man's hold. But after Jack was done using his mouth, he'd stuffed a dirty rag in Ryan's mouth, and taken him. Violated him on the dirty, locker room floor, and left Ryan there, sobbing and broken. Left Ryan to pick up his broken body and pull on his clothes. Left him to bleed all over his car, sobbing hysterically as he drove home.

He didn't want it. He didn't want it. _He didn't want it_.

_But oh yes, you did._

Please review :)

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	6. NOTE

**Author's Note**: Thank you so much for all the feedback and support that you have given me. At 15, your reviews meant the world to me and I enjoyed every bit of my moments on . This is a unique, incredible community and my fellow Tryan lovers helped me so much. Just so you know, I do not know if I intend to continue many of these fictions-perhaps with the exception of _Stolen Light-_or if I happen to find a loose storyline that I plan to edit. I'm sorry, but at 15, I was naive and ambitious and crazy, and even though I still am many of those things-my writing style at age 19 has changed dramatically. If I do continue my fictions, they will be on the account strawberryfinn (so please add that author to alerts/favorites/etc.) Thank you so much for all of your support-your reviews were incredibly beautiful. The fictions that I have up here will be left here unless I decide to revise them, and in that case, they will be removed from the FallingWithGrace account and reposted at strawberryfinn.

I have recently begun working with the _Glee _fandom, so expect to see a lot of fictions from that area

So it's www . fanfiction . net / ~strawberryfinn (without the spaces).

All my love,

FallingWithGrace


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